


Kingsparrow

by killbot2000



Category: Dishonored
Genre: High Chaos, The Light at the End - Freeform, alt ending, rlly high chaos everyone's dead, the loyalists - Freeform, tw for gore and whatnot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:55:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killbot2000/pseuds/killbot2000
Summary: High chaos ending I took and ran with





	Kingsparrow

He watched, hand outstretched in a pose of shock, as the self-appointed Lord Regent and the child empress became specks in the storm. He never saw them hit the sea. 

Corvo Attano pulled himself away from the edge of the catwalk, and sheathed his sword for the last time. 

The steps up the tower were slippery and covered in blood. Whether it belonged to Havelock, Emily, or himself, he didn't know, didn't care. His hands, previously steady when he wielded the blade, shook as he took the handrail down. 

Every minute he had spent after Jessamine had died, every minute in Coldridge, had been for nothing. Every fucking murder on his hands was meaningless. Had he known it would've come to this, he would've confessed in an instant. 

But he couldn't have foreseen the bloodshed he caused, the sickness that followed his escape, the rot and the decay. Couldn't have foreseen himself enjoying the severing of body parts from the torsos of every snake who betrayed him. He couldn't deny to himself that innocent blood coated his hands, just as well. It was all the same to him. 

The ground was saturated with rain; mud caked his boots as he stepped from the lighthouse into the courtyard. The bodies of overseers and the city watch laid in gutters and puddles. Rats were already on them, tearing flesh and bone, not even giving the carcasses time to stink. 

But there was a stink, a different kind of stench. Corvo smelt it as soon as he stepped foot on the island. The stench of greed, fear, and desperation. The loyalists had ended their lives stinking of betrayal and cowardice. 

Not a soul bothered him on his way through the island. He didn't even know if there was a soul on the island left to. The docks were barren of the dead when he reached them. But the boats he had been hoping for were gone. Stragglers, cowards who had hidden when the fighting started, or a man on the brink of death after a blade stabbed him in the neck, had taken the vessels. 

He stared at the horizon. A hundred miles out, on an island with nothing but the plague to keep him company. Somewhere out in the sea bobbed the bodies of the empress and the Lord Regent. Corvo knew what he had done. Knew what he wanted once he took the step. Just wanted to see what would happen. Just proving what he had become. 

Don’t take another step or I'll jump, and I'll take the girl with me. 

And so he had. 

The pour of the rain refused to end as he worked. He carried the bodies to the center of the island, piling them bone upon bone. Pendleton, he threw from the hole in the castle wall. Martin, he dragged out by the feet, leaving a trail of blood from the hole in his head. Soon the mound of corpses was finished, a monument to his carnage. The rain stopped as Corvo sat under shelter, waiting and staring at his boots into nothingness. Blood dried black in the mouths of the dead. 

Whale oil from the tank in the watchtower was used to saturate the uniform of each dead man. He left a trail leading to higher ground then threw the empty container back onto the pile. 

Corvo drew a breath and fired his pistol into the oiled trail of dirt. The oil flared up and shot to the corpses, crackling with moisture. The remains smoldered black and stunk of rot. 

And finally, at long last, he understood what he had done; fully and completely. The flames reached so high. He had stood by and watched an empress die. Not once, but twice. 

And the second he killed, himself. Revenge. For killing everyone except the people who controlled him. For wanting to see how bad things would get. Revenge, but on himself, it seemed. He would never be controlled again. 

I don't know about you, Corvo, but I've had a lovely time. 

The voice of the leviathan entered his head. It had an edge this time, of insane energy, but sounding much too disappointed for Corvo’s liking. 

“What is it you want from me?” His voice whispered in its strained way. 

But the Outsider only laughed in his mind, and spoke no more. Corvo could feel the absence of the god like a vacuum in his chest, pulling and crushing his insides to a paste to leave strewn across the void. 

And when he spoke to the Heart, asking for guidance, she did not answer him.


End file.
